Quoted By:
You hand the scroll to the diminutive secretary manning the chapel's modest reception desk. Her expression shifts from polite indifference to shock as her eyes pass over the distinctive seal light-burned into the document's final page.
Slowly, very gently, she re-rolls the scroll and places it into a filing cabinet beneath her desk. She searches for a page - possibly your page - in the massive ledger in front of her, adds three quick markings, and beckons you to follow her.
Fifteen minutes later, you enter a dark vault where the air is sharp with the scent of gunpowder and fresh snow. The room is filled with ammunition. In one corner, rifle rounds lay in neatly-stacked boxes and pleated belts, glimmering as you pan over them with your flashlight. Null grenades shaped from blown glass sit nearby, pulsating gently at your sudden intrusion.
"They don't like the light. Move along, please," warns the secretary.
She leads you further back to where the heavier munitions are stored. Normally, you wouldn't have any difficulty identifying the shells arranged in front of you. Black tips for armor piercing. Yellow for high-explosives. Red for incendiary. But here, none of those standards seem to apply.
Your attention lingers on a peculiar belt of 20mm rounds. The bullets are grooved and translucent, catching the light like cut gems.
"Glassknife rounds. Vitrifies on impact," explains the secretary.
"And these?" you ask, gesturing towards a box of foam-packed shells that vibrate quickly enough to visibly haze their own outline.
"40mm singing shells. For dispelling and immediate sanctification."
Before you can ask another question, she adjusts her glasses and inhales.
"The - very generous - terms specified in your requisition scroll permit you to withdraw one - and only one - ammunition box at the start of each officially sanctioned operation. Please do your utmost to be prudent."
With that, she turns around and leads you out.
On your way back to a more familiar section of the facility, you manage to catch lambda-null-null as they cycle between training facilities. The five operators are as terse as ever, though null-one manages a quick nod and null-three a quick wave. You...
>Attempt to strike up a conversation. Based on your conversation with Father Gregori, the five of them might even appreciate that kind of thing.
>Wish them well and head to medical to check on Marie.
>Wish them well and return to your room to rest. [Skips to next briefing. You will have time for one additional dialogue option before the start of the next mission]
